


You Never Grow Out Of Your Goosebumps Phase

by bluemandycat



Category: Chicken Chicken, Egg Monsters From Mars, Goosebumps - All Media Types, How I Learned To Fly, The Werewolf of Fever Swamp
Genre: (mild because this is a goosebumps fic), Body Horror, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Monsters, Shared Universe, Swearing, monster kids, runaway teens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21866584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemandycat/pseuds/bluemandycat
Summary: They don’t tell you what happens to the Goosebumps characters after their books are over, do they?Jack Johnson (from How I Learned To Fly), Crystal (from Chicken Chicken), and Dana (from Egg Monsters from Mars) are teenagers whose adventures have left them all supernaturally deformed. On the run, they find each other, and together the three travel the states, bumping into other Goosebumps protagonists whose encounters with the unknown have changed them. Maybe their past will catch up with them, maybe they'll just get arrested and dissected.
Relationships: Will Blake/Grady Tucker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> FUCK IT
> 
> GOOSEBUMPS FANFIC
> 
> (This is something I've been wanting to write for a very long time, and I hope you enjoy it!!)

They don’t tell you what happens to the Goosebumps characters after their books are over, do they?

Oh, most of them turn out okay. They live normal lives after their brushes with the paranormal. They shrug off that time their grandparents’ farmhand brought scarecrows to life; or when they were forced to clean up a rancid jelly creature; or even when their ventriloquist dummy came to life. They go to therapists and write it off as a dream or a fantasy, and nobody corrects them. They re-adjust. They transfer schools. Whatever. 

That’s not an option for all of them. 

I’m not talking about the ones that are too scarred to continue with life, the ones who know that what happened to them wasn’t a dream. Those ones are confined to inpatient care for the rest of their lives, or else they develop agoraphobia. They’re messed up, hurt beyond recognition. Their lives forever warped by their childish mistakes. They’re unlucky, but not that unlucky. 

After all, they’re only warped mentally.

The  _ really  _ unlucky ones are warped physically. For most Goosebumps kids, it’s easy to brush off their experiences. These unlucky few don’t get that luxury. Every inch of their being screams out that they’re different now. There’s no going back to the life they could have had. There’s not going to be any first dates or driving lessons or graduations for them. Because they’re  _ abnormal _ now.

Some aren’t so warped. They look odd, but only slightly. They’re able to hide their features under hoodies in low light, able to pass as human if you don’t look at them too hard.

For others, warped is all they are. Something hurt them– took it upon itself to permanently alter someone’s humanity. They won’t even get to walk into a convenience store without someone calling the police. 

It isn’t easy for any of them. There’s only so long you can exist in the world before people start noticing things about you, noticing how your eyes are a little too big for your head or how you never leave without a full face of makeup or how you can’t go out at night. They notice eventually, and eventually they connect the dots about you. And then you have to pack your bags and go on the run. Regardless whether you’re done growing up or not.

Eventually they do grow up. But nobody ever really grows up out of their Goosebumps phase.


	2. Jack 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Dana meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First real chapter!

I meet him at a strip club. 

Or, rather, I meet him outside a strip club. 

I’m not sure why I’m at the place, actually. It’s pretty seedy, and other the fact that it’s a dark place willing to look the other way, it’s unappealing. In another life, I wouldn’t be caught dead near it. 

But my old life is a fantasy, and I’ve been out on the road long enough to know not to be choosy. A dark place to sleep is a dark place to sleep, and this one won’t even need me to give a fake name. 

And besides, a guy’s got needs. I’m seventeen. I’ve been on my own for four years. It doesn’t exactly offer a lot of opportunities to get laid. At least not with people my own age.

But the bouncer won’t let me in. I don’t know whether it’s because he knows my ID is a fake (it reads John Jacobson, age twenty-one, with a heavily photoshopped picture of me) or whether he’s put off by my appearance. I only look different in the dark if you really look at me. If you pay attention, you might notice how my skin looks like it’s lit from beneath, like a hand up against a flashlight. But that’s it.

In the daytime, that’s a different story. I’ve been told that I look like I have a fever, which I think is charitable. I have access to a mirror. I know how my skin looks flushed, how you can see the dark outline of my skull through the skin on my face. If I took off my shirt, you could see my organs, too. I rarely take off my shirt. I know that my legs look tiny, useless, battered; compared to the rest of my body. 

I know that this is all my fault, too.

I was thirteen when I did this to myself. I found a book that promised to teach me how to fly in an abandoned house. It told me to ingest a glowing green powder. So I did.

And that was how I learned to fly. But that green stuff changed something in me, something biochemical. It’s turning me into something. I don’t know what. But it’s not going to be good.

It changed others, too, before me, but I don’t want to think about that.

The bouncer hands me my ID back, snorting. “Get lost, kid,” he says. “Come back when you’re actually twenty-one.”

“But I just wanted to come inside for a little bit!” An abject lie. My feet raise a little bit off the ground, and I pray he doesn’t notice. 

His lip curls. “Beat it. Go pollute a McDonald’s or something.”

I’m a master at polluting McDonalds. I want to fight him. My body wants to fly at him, spearing him against a wall and ripping a hole through his torso. But I can’t. So I duck my head, mumble an apology, and step out of line.

Rule number one of being a teen runaway: Always have a backup plan. I casually stroll over around the corner behind the strip club, into the alleyway. Someone will come out for a smoke break eventually, and then I can bargain with them on letting me in. Hopefully, it’ll work, or else I’ll be sleeping in the alleyway. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

There’s a mass by the trash cans, on the left side of the alleyway. It looks like throw up, but there’s a lot of it. Easily enough to fill a kiddie pool. Was this all one person? Or is this just the designated upchuck spot for the club? 

I guess it doesn’t matter. I lounge up against the outside wall of the strip club. The back door is metal and firmly closed. Whatever. I have all night. Just me and a pile of barf. 

I sigh and flick the hood off of my head. It’s no fun to have to keep your face shaded all of the time. My eyes are so used to the dark, I’m practically a nocturnal creature. Maybe that was another change to my biochemistry– reversing my Circadian rhythm. Or maybe that’s just because I’m on my own. Nature versus nurture, I guess. I admire how my finger bones appear through my red-lit hands. The pro, I guess, of looking like this is that I can always tell how I’ve hurt myself. Useful for someone who can’t go to a hospital. 

Motion from the puke pile grabs my eyes. It’s covered in black dots. At first, there are only a few dotting its yellowish surface, but with each second more and more appear. Gross. I wonder what kind of bugs those are? Flies, probably. The puke must be fresh to have just started attracting scavengers. 

Let the flies scavenge. As long as they don’t bother me, I’m fine. 

There is an issue, though, with the puke pile. I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but it doesn’t stink. Like at all. Isn’t the stink what attracts bugs? 

Warily, I approach it. It’s lumpy, with a yellow-gray color, and the black dots on its surface are shiny and static. Weird.

I reach out a hand, and it moves. 

Faster than I thought I could retreat, I’m back up against the strip club wall, four feet in the air. I’m breathing heavily now. 

The pile of I-don’t-know-what slides along the alley ground towards me. It stops, a couple of feet from the wall, and then rises up tall, like a person might stand up. 

“What are you?” I yell-whisper at it. We’re still in public, and even if I am in danger, I’d rather the police not be called. 

The top of the figure begins to ripple, and then it recedes. The goopy material runs down the figure, making it look like a candle melting. And it coalesces at the shoulders, revealing a face. A once-human face.

The face stares up at me. I get the feeling that this was once a heavy-set kid, before whatever happened to her. But clearly life has taken its toll. She has a long, gaunt face, with straight black hair braided on one side. Her eyes are the same black color as the dots on her...shell, for lack of a better word. 

“What are you?” she asks back, tilting her head up. 

“Screwed,” I tell her. I don’t want to come down just yet. 

She tilts her head. “I mean no harm. I promise.”

“You’re not going to hurt me?”

She blinks. “Of course not.”

I slowly edge my way down to the ground of the alley, still readied for an attack. She makes no move towards me, which is interesting. “So you were human once, then?”

“How could you tell?” She looks me dead in the eye, and I lift off just a bit, so I’m a little taller than her. 

“You can promise. The non-human stuff can’t do that. They just try to hurt you the first chance that they get,” I say. 

She shrugs. “I never noticed that. In truth, I rarely see the stuff that tries to hurt me. My eggs take care of it.”

My mouth falls open, and I drop onto the ground, landing hard on my weak legs. The girl’s goopy shell extends toward me, and a hand emerges. Reluctantly, I take her hand, and she pulls me up. 

“Did you say your eggs?” I ask. 

She smiles, but there’s no real emotion behind it. “My egg monsters from Mars. My protector.”

“You mean that cloak?” I ask. She nods. “That’s eggs?”

“They look like eggs. They smell like eggs. They hatch from eggs. I think I am justified in calling them eggs,” she says. At my raised eyebrow, she adds, “Okay, they’re aliens, but they’re basically sentient eggs.”

“And they’re a parasite?”

“This is symbiosis,” she corrects. “They protect me and keep me alive. In return, I assist with reproduction.”

I rear back. “I’m sorry, what? You’re having alien sex?”

“Don’t be lewd,” she replies crossly. “They reproduce with skin-to-skin contact. I just lay their eggs.”

“You lay eggs? Like, one a day?”

“And I’m to expect you’re one hundred percent normal?” she counters. “I just saw you fly.”

“What can I say? I ate something I found in an abandoned house. It’d be weirder if I walked away from that fine.”

She holds out her hand again, like a princess might. “I’m Dana.”

Eh, fuck it. I take her hand. “Jack. Nice to meet you, Miss Egg Monster.”

“Miss?” She raises her eyebrow at me. 

“Yeah? Was that a little formal for you?” I avert my eyes, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m sorry, it’s been a while since I talked with someone in the same position that I’m in.”

Dana shakes her head. “No, it’s not that– I haven’t talked to anyone in a while. It’s just, uh, I’m a boy.”

Shit. I went the first eleven years of my life being misgendered, and I turn around and do it to someone else? “Oh fuck, dude, I’m sorry.” I rub the back of my neck. “I’m trans, so I know that feel.”

“I’m cis,” he replies, and then shrugs. “I’m not mad. I know I look kind of androgynous. And the name doesn’t help.”

“So, I’m guessing that the whole egg monster thing sent you on the run?” I ask. 

“Yup,” he deadpans. “Turns out, not many people like it when you start wearing an egg cape. And what about you?”

I show him my hand. “The green stuff that made me able to fly did other stuff too. People don’t typically like it when your skull starts showing through your skin, either.”

“You and me,” Dana says. 

“Huh?”

“We stick together. It’s hard out there for teenagers. For gender non-conforming teenagers, in particular.”

“Tell me about it.” I shift. “What’s the benefit?”

“A friend.” Dana doesn’t smile, exactly, but his eyes crinkle. “We’re social creatures, even if we’re not exactly human anymore. We need to pack up.”

I reach out my hand to shake. “Deal. I promise not to teach you how to fly.”

He clasps my hand delicately. “I promise not to involve your body in the reproduction of my egg monsters.”

“Oh god, I’d hope not.” I pull back. 

“They would not want you,” he tells me, his hand dropping back to his side. “You’re not a pure human.”

“Gee, thanks,” I say sarcastically, even though it’s technically true. “Do you have somewhere to sleep tonight?”

“This alley was working well,” he replies. “I’m kept warm by my–“

“Your eggs, I know,” I grumble. “Dana, they won’t keep me warm.”

“They could,” Dana says. “They will not impregnate you at my behest. It’ll require some close contact, but, uh…” The egg near where his knees would be wobbles. 

“Sure. Fine. Fuck it.” I just need to sleep, at this point. 

“Excellent.” He sits down on the ground, and then lies on his back. The egg monsters wriggle behind his head to cushion it. “Lay on me.”

I do as he says, putting my knees on the ground and lowering my chest onto his chest. My legs surround his. It’s weirdly sexual, but at the same time, not at all? Like I know that it’s kind of a sexy situation, but I’m so tired and also I don’t think I’m attracted to him. 

Sensual. It’s sensual. I nestle my nose in his neck. I can feel the egg monsters creeping around my back, covering me up like a blanket. But instead of being grossed out, all I feel is warm.


	3. Dana 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dana meets Crystal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smash that kudo button if you want more of this fic!

Jack grins at me, floating a foot above the ground. “Daney, food!” 

He grins too much. I find that I don’t mind it. 

He means food for him, obviously. Food for me today involves me going full monster mode and absorbing some animal for its nutrients. Food for him usually involves something starchy. His body seems to need a lot of carbs in order to keep up his active powers, while I require more protein. 

He points at a convenience store. It’s about three AM in Raleighstown, Virginia, but the store is still lit. The fluorescent lights illuminate the edges of the hayfield surrounding the store, but they do nothing to make the tall grasses look less frightening. “Do you think we’ll need the shoplifter, or the flirt this time?”

I tilt my head, considering. “The shoplifter, I think. It’s dark outside, and the night shift won’t really care, as long as you buy something.”

He reaches into his pocket and counts the coins. “I have sixty cents. That should be enough to buy a pack of gum, right?”

I shrug. “Maybe. If not, you’re just going to have to risk not buying anything.”

He bites his lip. “Can you come in with me?”

I spread my arms. “Jack, look at me.”

“Look at me,” he counters, which is fair. 

“I have an egg to lay,” I counter back. 

“Excuses, excuses,” he says, rolling his eyes. “See you in ten.”

I shrug and glide towards the hayfield. (The eggs that make up my body do most of my movement for me. This is so I spend all of my physical energy on reproduction, but it has the disadvantage of looking, in Jack’s words, “really fucking creepy.”)

Once I’m a ways into the field, I squat down and prepare to do the necessary unmentionable– and make eye contact with… something. 

Instantly, I freeze. I’ve always been a freezer, and getting locked in a literal freezer as a kid didn’t help. The thing in front of me is bipedal, and that’s where the resemblance to a human stops. It’s covered in tawny red feathers all over. Its arms are sort-of like wings with hands at the end. It has a beak in place of a nose or mouth. It has fully black eyes like I do, except it’s are beadier. And yet, there are human touches that make me pause. It’s wearing a tank top and shorts, and the feathers on its head are pulled back into a little ponytail. This creature is like me. 

“Jesus Christ,” the creature says in a female voice. “You’re fucked up, huh?”

I don’t often get mad, but I get close to it now. “Look who’s talking.”

“No, seriously, what did it to ya?” she says. “Every ‘bumped has some sob story. Was it a witch? Cursed mask? Weird magician?”

I blink. All the eggs blink as well. “Every what?”

“‘Bumped. It’s what we call ourselves on the forums, at least. When some supernatural force kicks you in the nards out of the bounds traditional humanity, you’re ‘bumped.” She gives me a pronounced once-over. “So what was it?”

“The cloak that I have. It’s made of egg aliens.”

“Gross,” she says. 

“I lay their eggs in exchange for life support and protection.”

“The fuck?” She pulls a face. “You’re constantly pregnant? And here I thought I was the weirdo for laying unfertilized eggs every day.”

“To be fair, that is weird,” I reply. “And has no purpose.”

She laughs. “It’s hard to meet rooster-human hybrids. It’s not like there’s a dating app called Fertilizr or anything.”

That’s pretty funny, actually, and I allow myself a laugh. “I take it that’s why we’re both out in a field in the middle of nowhere?”

“Short-term, yeah. Long-term, I’m just passing through on my way to Florida.”

“And what’s in Florida… sorry, what was your name?”

“Crystal,” she says. 

“I’m Dana.”

“I’ve been able to do some research online, and there are two kids like us in Florida,” Crystal says. “They have a house, and said I could stay for a bit.”

“When you say like us…”

“Werewolves. About our age physically, but who knows what’s going on with their actual age, you know? They live out in butt-fuck nowhere, and I haven’t slept in a real bed in ages.”

“Good luck,” I say honestly. She’ll need it. She’s more obvious than me and Jack are, and she’s traveling alone. 

We’re both quiet, focusing on the… task at hand, and then she suddenly says, “Come with me.”

“Come with you? To Florida?”

“Why not? I’ve never met another ‘bumped in real life.” She can’t smile with her beak, but I can sense it in her tone. 

“I’m not alone,” I tell her. “I have a companion. Jack. He’s, uh, ‘bumped, too.”

“Bring him along, then. Safety in numbers.” She squints, and then I hear the sound of an egg dropping onto hay. 

“Your friends won’t care that you’re bringing two extra people?” 

“They’re lonely too. It’s a lonely life, man.”

“Okay,” I say. 

“Okay,” she parrots back. I have no idea how I’m going to explain this to Jack. 

I clench and lay my egg, then pick up the warm veiny thing. I’ll incubate it in the folds of my cloak until it hatches. “Let’s go get Jack, then.”


	4. Crystal 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crystal, Jack, and Dana meet the Werewolves of Fever Swamp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's read this so far!

The train more grinds then moves. Jack fidgets. Dana is eerily still. I resist the urge to preen. All of us keep quietly in our seats, with our hoods up and our legs crossed. We only have ten minutes left in our journey, thank fuck, and we don’t need any extra attention.

We’re on the train to Fever Swamp. I mean, it doesn’t stop at Fever Swamp, it stops two towns away, in Hialeah. Lucky for us, the ‘bumped dudes are picking us up at the station. 

I met Grady online. It’s hard to keep in contact when you’re ‘bumped, because not all of us have constant internet access. Plus, with the advent of Photoshop, it’s hard to tell if someone’s selfie is a fake or not. But if you’ve done as much combing as I have, it’s possible to find authentic ‘bumped. 

Some people in the community call themselves monsters, but I don’t really like the terminology. It’s not  _ my  _ fault I’m a chicken-girl– it’s that bitch of a witch, Vanessa. I think about her every single day. I won’t stop until I’m strong enough to kill her. For my brother.

But that’s not why we’re going to Fever Swamp. We’re tired, and when I reached out to Grady-the-werewolf, he offered his house almost immediately. He lives with another werewolf, named Will, out in the middle of nowhere. They’re probably just lonely– I know I am. And he was very nice in his messages.

Still, the fact remains that I don’t actually know them. Dana nudges me. “Don’t get caught up in your own thoughts.”

“You’re one to talk,” I reply. I’ve grown to like Dana, but he’s slow and laconic where I am crass and practical. We both have a tendency to brood, though. Egg laying stuff, I guess.

“Both of you stop,” says Jack. He’s quick, peppy. He grins a lot and jumps from one topic to another without breaking a sweat. “We’re here. Look sharp.”

We wait the requisite ten minutes after we hear the doors open to avoid being noticed, and then slip out, one after another, eyes on the floor. The porter thanks us for travelling with them, as if we had much of a choice. It’s the only train service that goes this far south. We ignore him and step out onto Hialeah station’s single platform.

There are three women, two men, a family, and about seventeen teenagers on the platform. Most of the teenagers are lounged on the platform, passing a joint around and clearly not there to pick up anyone. The two outliers are standing off to the side.

I recognize Grady from his selfies. Dirty blonde hair, low cheekbones. He’s not hairy, which you’d expect from a werewolf, but I guess that only applies when he’s in wolf mode. He’s wearing a baggy long sleeve t-shirt with the words  _ BURLINGTON FIRE DEPARTMENT  _ on it. Next to him is a built taller boy with close-cropped dark brown hair, in overalls and a gingham shirt. That’s Will, I guess. Flanking Grady closely is a giant dog, which must be half mastiff or something. It’s brown with pointed ears and a long snout like a German Shepard, and it sits quietly leashless.

When he sees us, Grady waves, and Will smiles, revealing sharp fangs. We approach warily. You have to be wary, no matter what. “Grady and Will, right?” I ask.

“And Wolf,” Grady replies, petting the dog. “Crystal?”

“Yup,” I say. “These are my two companions, Dana and Jack.”

“Lovely to meet you,” says Will. “We’ve fixed the place up nicely for your stay. Let’s get out to the truck, now, and back to the swamp. I get itchy when I’m away too long.”

––––––––––

There’s only room for three inside their beat-up red truck, so Jack and Dana graciously agree to ride in the truck bed with Wolf. Jack prefers the wind in his hair to almost anything else, and Dana doesn’t really care where he is, so it works out okay, and I don’t have to feel guilty about it.

Will just about talks my ear off as we drive down to Fever Swamp. “I prefer driving on the dirt roads, you know. I’ve lived my whole life in the swamp, and I never quite got used to the city. I’m lucky I have Grady with me for that sort of stuff.”

Grady, squished between us, nods. “I used to live in Vermont.”

“Yeah, and you like the swamp better than me. He gets lost in there every so often, and it takes me days find him and drag him home. And a werewolf hiding from another werewolf? Now that’s a feat. Grady’s got a knack for finding the oddest little hiding holes. I’m never sure whether I find it endearing or annoying.”

“When you can find it at all,” Grady says, and Will laughs and continues on.

“But how was your train ride, Crystal? You must be tired from your journey. Those two back there give you any trouble?”

“Dana and Jack? Nah,” I say. “They don’t get in my way.”

Will laughs. “Ah, she’s the boss! Good woman! Woman?” He drums his fingers on the wheel. “What are you, anyway?”

“ _ Will,”  _ says Grady. 

“No, it’s a good question, Grady. We’re run-of-the-mill werewolves, but these three are off the beaten path! What’s up?”

“Uh, I was cursed into a chicken-girl by a witch for bad manners, Jack ate some magic goop that gave him the ability to fly but fucked up his biochemistry, and Dana’s covered with aliens that provide life support as long as he keeps laying their eggs. All weird, I know.”

“Not weird, just unique!” Will exclaims, making a left. 

“Not that unique is any better when you need to walk into a 7-Eleven,” mutters Grady. He does have a point. 

“ _ Luckily _ ,” says Will, “there are no 7-Elevens in the swamp. You can relax for a change.” He stops the truck suddenly. “We’ll walk from here. Don’t want to disturb anything. Lemme go let the boys out.” He throws open the door. 

Grady offers me a small smile as he opens his own door. “I know Will can be a bit much, but I’m glad you came, Crystal.”

“Thanks for having us. Seriously,” I reply, getting out after him. I don’t blame Will for being chatty. He probably hasn’t had anyone but Grady to talk to for a while. 

“What’dja say?” Will asks, opening the truck bed. Jack floats off and Dana oozes. Wolf jumps, because he’s confined to the normal laws of physics. 

“Thanks for having us!” I repeat. 

“No problem!” he replies. “Follow me, folks.” He starts off into the trees. Grady follows him, with Wolf bounding after them. I exchange a look with Dana and Jack, and then we follow them. 

The air is hot and heavy, and I can hear bugs humming. It’s uncomfortable, but Will exhales in relief. 

“Welcome to Fever Swamp!” he announces. “The most beautiful place on Earth!”

“Will’s never been anywhere else,” says Grady. 

“Oh, hush,” Will says. “Don’t ruin it for them.”

Dana slides up to me. Jack floats upside down, his head hanging in front of ours so he can participate. “You traveled with them, Crystal,” Dana says lowly. “What’s your read?”

“They seem fine,” I whisper. 

“For now. I’m on edge,” he replies. 

“My instincts are better than yours,” I hiss. 

“This is fun,” Jack whispers. 

“Okay, you realize wolves have better hearing than humans, right?” Will calls back. “Most animals do, but wolves especially.”

_ Crap.  _ “You heard all that?” I ask. 

“Yeah.” Grady turns back and shrugs. “It’s okay. We don’t mean you any harm.”

“We don’t hurt people,” adds Will.

“ _ I  _ don’t,” corrects Grady. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Will looks over his shoulder. “I don’t either.”

“Anymore,” says Grady. 

Will makes eye contact with me. “Ignore him,” he says with a smile. “He’s just cranky because I topped him last night.”

I do a double take, and Jack nearly does a flip in the air. Dana is characteristically unfazed. “What?” I choke out. 

Will looks confused. “Yeah, we were just coming off the full moon last night. So we shifted into wolf form, and I chased him through the swamp until I caught him. And then, you know, I made him my bitch.”

“Will!” exclaims Grady.

“Fine, fine, screwed him. But it’s not like we only have wolf sex. We do it regularly too. But don’t worry, we soundproofed our room in preparation–”

“ _ Will! _ ” Grady repeats. “TMI!”

The look on Will’s face is priceless. Clearly he has gotten used to having no filter about his sex life. “Oh, uh–”

“It’s cool,” I say quickly. “We just didn’t know you two were together, is all.” I don’t want him to get a homophobic vibe from us, because he and his boyfriend are fucking werewolves. (I am not homophobic. I don’t know whether Dana and Jack are, because it never really came up, but if they are, I pray they’ll hold their peace.)

“Oh, guess I didn’t mention it,” says Grady. “Yeah, me and Will have been together for… let’s see…”

“Nearly twenty years!” Will chimes.

“Is that right? Has it really been that long?”

“You guys don’t look older than seventeen!” Jack exclaims.

“Well, yeah,” Will says. “Werewolves don’t age as long as they have prey, but a few years back me and Grady had a talk and decided not to eat people anymore. We stick to animals now, but that means we age. Not normally, but we’re growing just the same.”

“Honestly, I like it,” says Grady. “I didn’t want to be twelve forever.”

“Why did you–” I start.

But Will cuts me off as he charges up ahead. “Look! We’re here.”

We’re standing in front of a bungalow mostly made of old wood. An expansion, made of bright new wood, has very clearly just been added onto it. A sign above the door reads “THE BLAKE-TUCKERS.” 

“Come on in!” Will exclaims.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos, bookmarks, comments, and messages to @bluemandycat on tumblr in advance!
> 
> The next chapter is going to be a second Crystal POV, just because this one was getting kind of long.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, art, and messages to @bluemandycat on tumblr very appreciated. If you have any protagonists/monsters you want to see, feel free to request one!


End file.
